I’m at 2319 today, working on the projects from yesterday: the poem for Ellen and FLATLAND. I gave Shiyan a sample FLATLAND pitch in the car.

I find myself wanting to leave certain concepts in the realm of FLATLAND pleasantly vague, to be worked on “in the room” – at the same time knowing that I’m never going to get into “the room” unless they are clearer.

In order to convince people that you can direct something, you have to have very clear ideas. You have to describe the show as if it were finished. You need to be able to convince (with some degree of truth) a group of producers that you can bring, out of thin air, the exact show you describe, with very little variation.

In order to actually direct it, you have to be able to discard those ideas entirely, in favor of the best and most original impulses generated in the room. You use verbs like “play” and phrases like “let’s try it.”

Your designers have gone forward based on your (original) clear ideas, which are now modified. You have to keep them, and everyone, able to move forward with their work (which means making choices) while trying to be open to the best work possible (which means making changes.)

Then, just at the last minute, you have to find some accord between those impulses and your ideas – between changes and choices – between the designers and the play, between the reality and the dream of it.

And then you get to do it all over again.

This process of indecision is actually one of the best things about theater. It forces all participants to abandon their egos in favor of the best ideas in the room. When it doesn’t work, it’s either a hollow shell of control or an incoherent mess.

You have to let it stay messy as long as you can.